Gentlemen and Bandits
by HeroicNoodles
Summary: -Reboot- Arthur Kirkland is sent from England to the Wild West to help capture Alfred F. Jones and his gang! However when Arthur is kidnapped by the infamous bandit himself he'll soon discover who the real villains of the West are... USUK


_**Hello everyone, boy it's been quite a while since I've posted here it seems…**_

**_You're__ probably asking why I'm restarting this story, well I really wanna do it justice and reading through the one I posted about two years ago there's a lot of faults and aspects of the plot I wanna change around a bit._**

**_So here it is, a long overdue update of this little tale._**

_**To point it out here, things aren't going to be 100% historically accurate, whilst I'll try my best to keeps things as true to history as possible please allow for just a little bit of artistic leverage here and there, cheers. Hope you enjoy 83**_

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><p><em>1896 U.S.A<em>

Arthur Kirkland dabbed at the tiny droplets of sweat gathering at the base of his neck with his handkerchief, knotting his brows as he wiped the moisture away he looked out once more at the vast landscape passing him by.

It truly was magnificent, what had become know as the Great West, an untameable and beautiful land with lush green plains that stretched as far as the eye could see… And was all that Arthur had seen for the past four hours on board the Union Pacific

Leaning back into his seat he set to work on folding his handkerchief up again thinking how in God's name he had managed to end up here, thousands of miles away from his precious London, how he wished for it's cobblestone streets, it's murky dark grey skies and bitterly chill winds and rain once more. Anything besides this horribly humid summer...

Then of course there was the trouble of his companion he had been paired up with for the expedition. A Frenchman by the name of Francis Bonnefoy who was dozing in the seat across from the Brits, the man seemingly unaffected by the humid air in the carriage smirked in his seat while he nodded off, cool calm and collected while Arthur's cheeks had turned a dark red and hair had become slightly damp from sweat.

The two had the misfortune of working together, Arthur couldn't stand the Frenchman having known him for the majority of his adult life. Francis was more or less a thorn in his side one that took pleasure in causing any kind of general nuisance or inconvenience it could muster on Arthur.

They're joined career choices were was that of trading. A little known trading company which its flagship office was situated in London. A few weeks ago a letter had found its way onto none other but Arthur Kirkland's desk. Holding the crisp piece of off-white paper in his hands he re-read the neatly written sentences he knew off by heart.

_Mr Kirkland_

_It has come to our attention that our representatives in the Western Plains of the United States of America have been experiencing increasing numbers of bandit attacks on our companies trading outposts and cargo shipments._

_Though bandit attacks are common in the Wild West our representatives stress that if something is not done soon our company may lose its stronghold in the Western Plains._  
><em>That is why we have chosen you as a representative of our London branch to travel to America, with you're previous military history and true proper English spirit we think you are a perfect candidate for the job to eliminate the growing problem and converse with our clients.<em>

_Your ship leaves tomorrow at seven am sharp at the East London Dock._

_Sincerley_

_Board of Directors of the Royal British Trading Company._

He squirmed in his seat as his eyes trailed across the final sentence, he could feel his neck drip with sweat once more. Exhaling a deep sigh he tucked the letter away in his jacket pocket. Arthur looked up at Francis once more who now had his eyes open and was gazing out at the window at the deep sienna mountains standing in the distance.

"It is indeed beautiful no?" Francis sighed, smirking at his partner to which Arthur merely scowled back, he hated that stupid little grin of his with a passion.

"I find it becomes rather dreary after the first hour on this bloody train" Arthur responded rubbing his neck with his hand this time not bothering with the handkerchief, "Once you've seen one cactus you've seen them all."

An eyebrow was raised by the Frenchman, the damned smirk only got wider. "Now now mon ami, you should learn to appreciate America's beauty, I for one find the landscape here quite extravagant and majestic." the blonde cooed.

"Oh sod off Git, you can't even bloody spell majestic" Arthur hissed back, though it only earned him a chuckle from Francis in return.

"Now now little bushy brows why don't you take a nap you seem to be suffering terribly from the humidity" he laughed. Arthur's eye twitched, he hated anyone mentioning his… well… more than moderately sized eyebrows, especially the snail eating greasy haired frog sitting across from him.

"Don't talk to me the rest of the bloody trip if you know what's good for you" Arthur mumbled in response, the heat getting the better of him he closed his eyes drifting off to the sound of the trains whistle blowing.

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><p><em>1896, Nevada Territory, Carson.<em>

In the small town of Carson stood the 'Lonely Hero' saloon which offered cheap whiskey and the prettiest girls you could ask for on your travels to Sacramento. It had once been a spot for Pony Express messengers to water down but now it was derelict, at three in the afternoon not a soul lingered in any of its dark corners or huddled round any of its poker tables

The bartender looked out at the empty seats humming quietly to himself as he put away the last of the glasses. Come sundown the regulars would start wandering in, beginning another night of drinking away their money they had earned that day or building up their bar tabs.  
>The bar keep had begun wiping down the counters when the old wooden doors screeched on their hinges as shadowed figure burst through them. The skittish man behind the counter practically leapt at the noise narrowing his violet shaded eyes to see the culprit who had just made his presence known.<p>

"Like what you've done with the place Mattie." the man announced with a tinge of a southern accent bending his words. Spurs clinked as he approached the bar, taking of his dusted cowboy hat and setting it atop the counter. "Business sure seems to be a boomin' "

"Alfred!" the barkeep gasped, "You- You're back so soon!" he stammered happily.

"Course I am! I told ya I'd find those Delaney brothers quicker than you can point and shoot a gun." The bandit flashed his brother a wicked smile, making himself comfortable atop one of the few barstools they had left from frequent 'friendly' bar fights that tended to happen from time to time.

Sighing at his brothers playful jab Matthew quickly reached under the counter for a glass, turning away for a moment to fetch a him a drink.

"So… Did they talk? Are they workin' for him now?" Matthew asked setting the shot glass on the table in front of Alfred. The cowboy said nothing, deep cerulean eyes stared hard at the dark brown whiskey he was swirling in the glass.

"Nope… Bastards kept their mouth shut" he muttered, throwing his head backwards and knocking back the fiery liquid, the slam of the glass meeting the counter was accompanied by a loud hiss from Alfred as the alcohol scorched his stomach.

"They did seem to recall after a few punches though that he's after callin' in some limey son of a bitch from England. A suit and tie who apparently has the means of stopping' me" Alfred winced, patting his chest to diminish the lingering flames still lapping in his stomach. "Braginski's a fool to think that some tough an' rough English guy is gonna stop me though" he added, a smug little smile returning to his face, the whiskey seeming to now take effect.

Matthew however drummed his fingers on the table, chewing at his lower lip, seeing Alfred so calm and passive about news like this meant inside he definitely was anxious. The two had been orphans even before Matthew could walk. Matthew knew Alfred better than anyone, he was all he had. Which gave him a perfectly good valid reason to be so worried…

"Alfred… You shouldn't brush this off, Ivan is obviously planning something big this time if he has a contact coming all the way from England to try and stop you. You're going to have to a lot more careful!" he whispered looking over at the wooden doors convinced he would see some shady figure lurking in the doorway listening to their conversation.

Alfred merely laughed, "Brother, I'm the most feared bandit round these here parts" he shrugged, reaching for his hat on the counter he placed it atop his head once more.

"It'd take a genius to catch me."

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><p>Arthur had awoken with a stiff neck just a few miles away from their destination of Carson city in the state of Nevada. Squinting his eyes he could just make out the buildings encircling the small town playing a nice backdrop to the sun just setting beyond the horizon. Francis was gone from the carriage, something Arthur had no reason to complain about.<p>

Adjusting his tie and running his fingers through his hair to make himself a tiny bit more presentable he reached down for his briefcase tucked away under his seat, inside lay a file which he had received once stepping off the ship in New York a few days before hand. Amongst dealing with the side effects of sea sickness and sleeping for the majority of the train journey he had yet to actually read the thing from cover to cover. Supposing now was a good of a time than never he sat back in his seat opening turned open the first page which was a second letter, a brief memo more like it simply explained to him where his final destination was to be and which platform to board from.

Glancing through a few pages he landed on the one he was most intrigued with, a grainy sepia toned photo grinned back at him, the smile belonging to one Alfred F. Jones a bandit that had quite an impressive bounty on his head. He had been added to the file because it was his gang of misfits that were leading the attacks upon the Royal British Trading Company's shipments.

This was the man they were trying to catch, Arthur frowned at this statement though, this Jones fellow couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen, he didn't look at all like the scar ridden scruffy looking bandits that had become a popular image back home of the 'Untameable West' he simply looked like a arrogant pup who needed a good clipping around the ears. Flicking through dribs and drabs of information on the area, railroad timetables and maps Arthur sighed out when he reached the end of the file reading the letter addressed to him.

_Mr. Kirkland_

_I trust that after reading through the information we have made available to you you can now appreciate why we have brought you here and now have some idea on how you may aid us in stopping these attacks on our companies stock and reputation._

_Upon reaching the town of Carson you shall be greeted by a Mr. Toris, an assistant to Mr. Ivan Braginski who also holds an interest in taking down Jones and his gang of vagabonds, he has been working alongside our companies branch here for quite a number of months. Mr. Braginski shall meet you at a later time allocated to you by Mr. Toris once you arrive._

_Until then we trust you shall make yourself comfortable in the small but certainly charming town of Carson._

_Sincerely_

_Board of Directors of the Royal English Trading Company._

With a dull thud Arthur's head fell on the window, tossing the file onto the seat beside him. He hadn't even gotten of the bloody train and already he had had enough and wanted to go home. Although as the train slowly pulled up towards the train station, announcing its arrival with a loud whistle, he really didn't have any choice in the matter anymore.

Groaning and mumbling to himself he hadn't noticed Francis had returned to his seat, wiping away bright red lipstick from his cheek.

"The girls here Arthur my my… I never knew my accent was so appealing" he grinned. Arthur merely glanced over in mere disgust.

"Christ I hate you, you know that?

"Oui I do mon ami, I fully return the sentiment…"

"Good."

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><p><em><strong>... 8D;<strong>_

_**Oh well I tried =w=**_

**_Short and sweet opening this time. Hopefully you guys like it ~o3o~_**


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